


girl on the run (dark enough to hide away)

by NoxWrites



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/F, Grease Monkey!AU, The rest of the stark clan is there, also the baratheons and lannisters, and some others - Freeform, mechanic!daenerys, rich!sansa
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2019-08-19
Packaged: 2020-09-07 20:51:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20315839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoxWrites/pseuds/NoxWrites
Summary: Sansa stands up and walks around to stand in front of Daenerys. She places her hands on Daenerys’ exposed biceps, running her nails lightly up and down Daenerys’ arms. Daenerys looks down as her arms begin to tingle with the ghost-like contact. She feels her stomach coil as the woman looks down at Daenerys with a hint of a smile.“So if you know cars, do you think-” Sansa gives a soft chuckle, “do you think you could help me with my situation?”Daenerys chuckles while she uncrosses her arms, standing up straight, entering Sansa’s space and startling the woman. “This may work with grown men who didn’t learn self control but I’m made of firmer stuff.”orthe daensa grease monkey!au





	girl on the run (dark enough to hide away)

**Author's Note:**

> okay so I got really into this au and i found floor plans for the [Stark Manor](https://saterdesign.com/collections/luxury-home-plans/products/camellia-manor-traditional-plantation-style-house-plan) and [Daenerys' house](https://saterdesign.com/collections/modern-home-plans/products/versilia-house-plan) so enjoy.
> 
> and also like i know i have 50 other things to work on but i love this one

Daenerys waits at the gates of the manor with annoyance. It’s the third time this week her key card has not worked. She drums her fingers along the steering wheel as the security at the gate calls the security at the manor. The estate sits on multiple acres of land with a six-car two-story garage which Daenerys calls home while at work. The manor itself is a monstrous two stories spanning 4,830 square feet. With a massive pool and stables in the back. The pristine white of the house matches the driveway and the white stone fences. There are professionally hedged bushes and trees that make the house look as if it came out of a magazine for millionaires, which Daenerys is pretty sure she’s seen the Stark Manor in one which is framed in the foyer. 

She shakes her head as the gate buzzes and the security guard walks forward, handing her key card back to her and motioning for her to follow the driveway. Of course, it’s not the white stone marble driveway, that’s at the front gate. She follows the poorly paved loose cobblestone driveway which serves as the back entrance for nonessential staff. Because that’s what Daenerys has always been, nonessential. Her beat-up Fleetside comes to a stop right behind the manor’s garage.

She tosses her car key across the seat to the passenger side, slipping out of the truck with a huff of loose dirt beneath her kicking up around her boots. She brushes her hands against her pants as she takes in the backside of the garage. She can see three figures on horseback riding behind the fence that bars the horses from the pool. Her eyes role and she turns her back on the manor, slipping her phone out of her pocket. With the temperature already being in the high 90s and looking at the forecast for the day, Daenerys begins to pull her flannel shirt off, going down to just her tank top that she wore beneath it. 

She holds the flannel between her teeth as she gets herself situated. She tosses the flannel over her shoulder before walking around to the truck bed. She pops open the back and tugs on her tool chest to pull it off the bed. As she closes it she hears the sound of approaching horses, she turns around to see the three horses and their riders passing the garage. 

Daenerys puts her hand up in greeting, “Morning.”

As the horses come closer, Daenerys could make out the riders. One with long fiery red hair tied into a braid over her shoulder, the rider’s eyes pierce Daenerys with the ocean blue that goes for miles in her eyes. Daenerys feels herself stand a bit taller seeing her boss’ daughter coming towards her, standing with more stock in her stance as she greets her. The others, Daenerys barely recognizes, having only seen them at a distance with descriptors from other house employees. She knows they’re Sansa’s friends, Jeyne Poole, and Margaery Tyrell. 

Daenerys could already feel herself sweating from the heat so she grips the base of her tank top, foregoing the flannel on her shoulder, and pulls the base up to her forehead to wipe the sweat from her brow. When the riders simply stop and watch her, she nods her head before walking to the backdoor of the garage. 

She opens the door and holds it open with her foot as she tries to move into the garage with her tool chest. She finally gets into her workspace and smiles, ready to feel the A/C but her smile drops when she’s not hit with a blast of cold air. She walks further into the garage and set her chest on a table. 

“Theon. Theon!” Daenerys shouts into the garage with frustration. 

Theon comes walking from the office near the front of the garage. “Good morning, Daenerys!”

“Morning, why is it so hot in here?” Daenerys throws her flannel against the table as she feels the full heat of the stuffy garage. 

“Yeah the A/C here and in the barn is broken, they’re getting someone to fix it by the end of the week.” Theon scratches the back of his head, looking awkward in his suit pants and button up in the garage. 

Daenerys groans, “Where’s the unit, out in the back?” 

“Daenerys you have Mr. Stark’s Lincoln Continental to work on. He wants it for the Blue Rose Ball at the Lannister’s Manor.” Theon points to the car sitting on the lift towards the front of the garage. 

Daenerys shakes her head and waves a hand in dismissal, “I just need to change the piping and I can order that right now then go fix the A/C.”

“Daenerys.” She hears him calling out but she’s already walking to the computer at the back of the shop. 

She orders the part and decides to ship it to her place before she sets off outside with her tool chest to fix the A/C. 

―

She pulls taut on the reins, her horse coming to a stop as she watches the woman exit the beat-up truck. The woman waves her hand and Sansa can hear her shouting a greeting but her mind is stuck on her abs as the woman lifts her shirt to wipe her forehead. She hears a low whistle come from her side and it’s enough to break her stupor. 

“Who is that?” Margaery asks as she rides up beside Sansa.

“Father hired a mechanic since the Continental broke down.” Sansa looks from Margaery to the mechanic who has finally walked inside the garage.

“Not very impressive as presentation goes,” Jeyne comments as she catches up to them. 

Margaery scoffs, “Yes because a mechanic is going to wear a suit and tie to work.” 

“Good point, also I don’t imagine she comes anywhere near the manor.” Jeyne kicks her heels in and her horse begins to head back the way they came. 

Sansa turns her head away from the garage and begins to walk her horse back towards the barn. Her head casts a last glance over her shoulder and she watches the door opens and closes multiple times. She stops and watches the mechanic exit the garage and walk to the large A/C unit. 

“Sans!” Margaery yells from a way off.

Sansa shakes her head and looks back to the barn, not seeing the mechanic look over at her retreating form. She catches up with her friends. Together they all begin to take the tack from their horses, walking them to their stalls and refilling the horses’ food. Sansa waits for them outside of the barn, Margaery and Jeyne walk out with her and they follow the stone trail to the back porch of the manse. Sansa is quiet as they enter the back porch which opens to the leisure room leading into the kitchen. 

The kitchen is loud and raunchy with laughs and chatter. Sansa’s mother and father stand in front of the kitchen island and entertain the company that’s over. Sansa knows the adults and their reasons for being in her house but it doesn’t make her any less annoyed. She spots the Tyrells, Margaery’s parents and brother along with her elder grandma. The Arryns include her aunt Lysa and her husband, Sansa notices their young son isn’t in attendance and thanks the gods for that. There are other families, smaller in renown but ‘equally as important’ as her father says. 

Her mother walks away from the group for a moment to reach Sansa, she extends a hand and Sansa wraps her arm around her mother’s arm. Margaery and Jeyne nod in respect as they pass her mother before joining the rest of the group and finding their respective families. Sansa turns towards her mother and ushers away from the kitchen, she walks her mother over to the nook between the kitchen and leisure room. 

Her mother looks at her with a genuine smile until they’re out of sight of the others. Catelyn lets out a sigh and untangles her arm from her daughter. Sansa steels herself for whatever decision her mother has made that will change Sansa’s life once again. 

“Your father and I have been talking-”

“So you talked at father and decided without his input.” Sansa snaps at her mom in the midst of Catelyn’s sentence, she knows how conversations between her parents go when it comes to the daughters of their family. 

Catelyn’s expression hardens to stone and her small smile falls to a hard line. “Winterfell Inc. has decided on a partnership between us and Storm’s End Engineering.”

“Congratulations.” Sansa begins to walk away but a rough hand grips her arms, pulling her back to the conversation.

“Robert Baratheon thinks you and his son Joffrey will make an excellent pair to oversee the joint transaction.” Catelyn’s eyes don’t fall on her daughter, they fly about to look at everything else in the room.

Sansa shakes her head. “Joffrey was accused of assault three times, got away with it because his mom’s father is the greatest lawyer for awful people who are definitely guilty.”

“You don’t know that.” Catelyn shakes her head in disappointment. “Never judge someone based on what others tell you. Judge him on his own merit.”

“Okay, well I had classes with him and his merit is an asshole.” Sansa bites back at her mother, she already knows the decision has been made and fighting is useless.

Catelyn shakes her head once more. “Sansa, please. It’s nothing confirmed yet, just go on a few dates and see how it is.” 

“Margaery works for Cersei, you know, and she’s seen Cersei come in on multiple occasions with bruises on her face, neck, and arms. Boys take after their fathers, you’ve seen Robb, Joffrey will be just like his father.” Sansa pleads with her mother. 

“You don’t know that.” Catelyn lifts up Sansa’s hands and holds them in her own. “Please, just for me. Just try.”

“Oh bite me, mother. Your ‘just tries’ end up ruining my life.” Sansa pulls out of her mother’s grip and storms off. 

In order to get where she wants she has to trudge through the kitchen, she avoids looking at everyone in the room. She hears her father shout after her but she can’t care to stop for him. She walks straight through the house to the family valet and out towards the side door of the garage. She slams the door shut behind her, frustrated with her mother and with the single thought of one decision her mother has made for her it devolves into every decision her mother has ever made for her. 

Out of pure frustration, Sansa reaches to the side and grabs the first key she can reach on the rack. With a click on one of the family’s cars’ keys, she hears the horn of her brother’s Mercedes AMG-GT. Sansa storms over to the Mercedes and swings the door open before slamming it shut. The garage door is slow to open but without it even fully opening Sansa guns it when just enough space for the Mercedes to leave. She can hear the tires burn rubber in the garage, leaving smoke and black markings behind her. 

―

Daenerys swings her head back and forth, the song’s beat brings her head out of the day she’s had at the manor. The road back home is a bumpy nightmare from the seventh layer of hell. The song can only do so much to remove the worry in her head about her tires running over the loose gravel. The road is surrounded on both sides with trees as tall as buildings that cover the evening sun as it slowly starts to set. 

She makes it to the end of the gravel ridden road that connects the back of the Stark Manor to the main street of their property. Inching forward as she checks for traffic she takes a right turn and begins the rest of her journey home. She drums her fingers against the steering wheel as she drives, no longer bobbing her head as she has to pay attention to traffic and the wild animals on the property. 

It’s about five miles to the highway that she sees smoke from the trees. She slows the car as she passes the smoking mess, her head swiveling from the road in front of her to the mess of metal on the right side of the road. It’s not until she sees an arm fall out of the driver’s window that she begins to worry. 

She pulls over to the shoulder of the road, a few feet from the accident, and stops the engine. Leaping from her car, Daenerys runs to the wrecked car. As she gets closer she can smell the leaking oil and her steps begin to slow, cautious of the car which might be worse off than it appears. 

“Hello?” She raises an arm to cough into her elbow as the smoke hits her lungs. Her eyes water from the smoke as it stings her sight. 

A single groan from the driver’s side draws her attention. She walks up to it, careful not to step in oil she sees dripping from the front. She peers inside of the car, the window is smashed to bits and missing most of the glass. The driver’s forehead is open and blood slips down her temple to her chin. Her mouth is bloody and her loose arm that hangs from the window is already bruising. 

Daenerys winces in imaginative pain. “Okay. Hey, lady, I need you to put your arm back in the car.”

“Fucking go away.” The driver snaps at her and her head rolls on her neck, away from Daenerys.

“Wish I could. Okay, I’m gonna move your arm for you so be ready for pain.” Daenerys lifts the girl’s arm, barely touching her as she sets it back inside the car.

The girl groans and when Daenerys drops her arm it hits the girl’s leg causing the driver to hiss in pain. Daenerys winces in a silent apology before opening the driver’s door. The girl’s arm falls limp once again and her body begins to sag out of the car, stopped by the seat belt still wrapped around her. 

“Okay. We’re going to move you slowly, okay?” Daenerys steps closer to the woman, one hand wraps around the girl’s neck while the other goes to click the seat belt.

With a click the seat belt retracts on itself, Daenerys is quick to move her other hand underneath the woman’s knees. The girl falls onto Daenerys’ chest and Daenerys takes a deep breath before lifting her up. 

“I got you,” Daenerys whispers as the woman buries her face into Daenerys’ neck. 

Daenerys sets her on the passenger seat of her truck and precariously shuffles a towel underneath the woman and behind her. “Nothing against you, I just don’t want blood on my seats.” 

The girl groans and starts to slump over but Daenerys pushes against her shoulder to set her back up. She reaches for the seatbelt and sets it around the girl before buckling her in. Daenerys reaches up to the woman’s face and brushes the disheveled hair out of the way. Her hand comes back bloody but the woman’s face draws more of Daenerys’ attention. 

“Miss Stark, oh shit.” Daenerys stumbles back a step. “Oh shit. Okay, I’m gonna call an ambulance.”

The girl’s consciousness seems to register the last sentence better than any other. “No! No cops, just take me somewhere. I’m fine. Where’s my phone?”

Daenerys looks between the woman and the car, pressed against a tree with the entire front end pulverized and the frame of the entire car bent. “I think you need to see a doctor” 

“Fuck you, you don’t know what I need. Just like my mother, so fucking annoying. Where’s my phone?” Sansa’s injured arms pat at her pockets and groan when they only pull out her wallet. 

Daenerys steps away from her and jogs back to the car, with careful steps she once again approaches the driver’s side and looks about. The driver’s door is empty as is the glove compartment so Daenerys leans across to the passenger seat and finds the phone vibrating from dozens of incoming messages. She grips the phone, victorious, and rushes back to her truck. 

When she is about to open the door to give Sansa her phone she sees the girl resting her head against the window, asleep. She slips the phone into her back pocket and walks around to the driver’s side. She walks past the door and pulls another towel out of the truck bed. When she sits in the driver’s seat she gently lifts Sansa’s head away from the window, tucking the towel as one would a pillow between Sansa and the window. As Sansa’s head gently falls against the towel Daenerys brushes the loose and messy hair out of the girl’s face and behind her ears. Her touch is delicate as the wound on her forehead becomes exposed, the blood has dried and is caked around her temple. She runs her thumb under Sansa’s eyes, along her cheekbone and wipes some dirt and grime from the woman’s face. 

She looks at her dirtied thumb and immediately wipes the dirt on her pants, ignoring the ache in her heart to make sure Sansa is safe and no longer bleeding. With gentle control of the wheel, Daenerys pulls back onto the street and towards the city, away from the crash and away from the Stark Manor. 

―

Daenerys leans into the car, her hips settling on the front as she tinkers underneath the hood. She steps back with grease running up her hands and forearms. Her pale skin blackened by the dark mess of the car’s engine. With the back of her left hand, she wipes the sweat from her brow and steps back so she’s completely out from underneath the hood. She steps to the side where her tray of nuts and bolts sits in her garage. After rummaging through some of her loose bolts she grabs two and resumes her work on the car, ducking beneath the hood once more. She’s caught in her own headspace when the door to the garage opens up and a voice speaks up, she jumps and slams her head against the car’s hood.

“I am so sorry.” Sansa’s voice is hoarse with exhaustion and dryness. 

Daenerys rubs the back of her head and slowly steps out from under the car’s hood to turn around fully without injuring herself once more. “Not your fault. Just glad you can walk and aren’t dead. That would be hard to explain.” 

“May I ask, where am I?” Sansa leans against the open doorway. 

Sansa winces as she puts her body against the doorway. Daenerys feels bad but she can’t help anymore, she had wrapped Sansa’s cut on her leg and bandaged Sansa’s forehead wound.

Daenerys tosses her wrench onto the work table next to her, “You’re at my place. Do you- Do you remember anything from yesterday?”

“Yesterday!” Sansa shouts in confusion.

“I found you a little after eight on my way back from work. You slept until this morning. I also, uh, used your phone to let your family know you’re okay.” Sansa immediately begins freaking out, standing upright and patting her pockets to find her phone. “I didn’t tell them where you were. Um, I scrolled through your texts with, uh, Margaery and told everyone you were getting a present for Robb’s birthday. So you may need to pick up something before going home.”

Daenerys checks her watch as Sansa steps into the garage, taking a seat at one of the workbenches. Sansa rubs her eyes with the base of her palms. Daenerys turns around and unhooks the latch that holds the car’s hood up. She closes the hood and starts cleaning up around the car. Her hands reach for the towel in her back pocket and she pulls it out to begin wiping off the grease and sweat. 

“How am I supposed to get home? I wrecked Robb’s car, I’m so dead.” Sansa holds her hands in her head. 

Daenerys lets out a boisterous laugh and walks towards Sansa. “Okay, princess, calm down.”

“How are you laughing? I’m ruined.” Sansa lets out a deep breath with her brows furrowed. 

Daenerys leans against the table, inches form Sansa. She crosses her arms over her chest and gives the girl a smirk. “Your family runs a multi-million dollar empire, I’m sure a Mercedes-AMG GT R Coupe is the same as toilet paper for you guys.”

“How do you know what car it was?” Sansa questions, her brows loosen and she leans towards Daenerys. 

Daenerys looks behind herself, to the mess that is her home garage where three cars sit in the middle of mayhem. Wrenches and bolts are scattered amongst the floor, cans of oil and gas lay about, some empty while others are full. The three cars, two technically because the base of the Ford Mustang Mach 1 barely shouldn’t count as a car. Her Fleetside is between the Mach 1 and the Mustang II Cobra II she was just working on. 

  
She looks back at Sansa and her smirk grows. “Just a guess.” 

Sansa stands up and walks around to stand in front of Daenerys. She places her hands on Daenerys’ exposed biceps, running her nails lightly up and down Daenerys’ arms. Daenerys looks down as her arms begin to tingle with the ghost-like contact. She feels her stomach coil as the woman looks down at Daenerys with a hint of a smile.

“So if you know cars, do you think-” Sansa gives a soft chuckle, “do you think you could help me with my situation?” 

Daenerys chuckles while she uncrosses her arms, standing up straight, entering Sansa’s space and startling the woman. “This may work with grown men who didn’t learn self-control but I’m made of firmer stuff.” 

Sansa stumbles backward as Daenerys leaves Sansa in the garage. Daenerys enters the house, knowing the slack-jawed girl will soon follow. Sansa stumbles in after Daenerys as they walk past the two spare bedrooms and into the foyer only to turn towards the kitchen. Every few seconds Daenerys looks over her shoulder to see Sansa still open-mouthed and in awe as she takes in Daenerys’ house. 

“How can you afford this?” Sansa steps in a circle as she takes in the kitchen and the great room. “My family’s salary is hefty but not this hefty.”

Daenerys chuckles and begins to pull out leftover breakfast. “Do you want pancakes?”

Sansa nods and walks to the bar, sitting on a bar stool as she waits for the reheated breakfast. “How do you afford this place? You’re not like a drug dealer on the side because as much as I appreciate you saving me, I would have to tell my father.”

Daenerys shakes her head as she hands Sansa the reheated pancakes along with a bottle of aspirin. “No, no drugs. Just human trafficking.”

Sansa chokes on her food when Daenerys shows a devilish smirk and it makes Daenerys pat the woman on the back. Sansa spits out the piece of pancake and looks at Daenerys with genuine concern, it causes Daenerys to let out a joyous laugh. Daenerys walks back to the kitchen to prepare a pitcher of coffee. 

“No, my family comes from money and this was the one thing I bought with my share of the money before donating the rest of it.” Daenerys shrugs her shoulders, turning her back on Sansa.

Sansa looks around. “If you come from money why, um..” 

“Why work for a shit salary and be a greasy mechanic?” Daenerys interrupts Sansa with a raised brow.

Sansa lets out a sigh. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“It’s okay princess, you come from a very different life than I, which isn’t bad just different.” Daenerys walks away from the coffee machine and leans on the kitchen island towards Sansa.

“Well, I would give anything to live this life rather than mine own.” Sansa sighs and stands up, handing Daenerys her empty plate.

Daenerys eyes the plate and then Sansa. “What am I supposed to do with this?” 

“Um, clean it?” Sansa asks, not sure of herself while giving the answer.

Daenerys laughs. “You wouldn’t last one day in this life, princess.”

Daenerys avoids the plate, she grips the small of Sansa’s back and leads her over to the sink of the kitchen. Sansa walks with stiff movements. When she’s over the sink Daenerys stands back and waits but Sansa does nothing. Sansa looks back at Daenerys and with a nod of Daenerys’ head she puts the plate at the bottom of the sink, taking a step back. Daenerys lets another laugh spill from her lips, she pushes Sansa back towards the sink and puts her arms around Sansa. Daenerys lets her arms rest on Sansa’s arms, using them to lead Sansa in the actions to clean her own plate. Sansa grimaces when her fingers touch the syrup as she begins to wipe down the plate. Daenerys chuckles in Sansa’s ear and steps back as Sansa continues to wipe down her plate. 

“Congratulations, you cleaned your own dish.” Daenerys smiles in triumph as Sansa turns off the sink and grips a towel to dry it off.

Sansa’s brows furrow as she sets the plate on top of the set of plates Daenerys has set up above the dishwasher. “That felt oddly good.”

“Yeah, being self-sufficient can do wonders for the soul.” Daenerys walks back to the coffee machine and pulls the pitcher out, turning off the drip.

She reaches up to grab two mugs from the open cabinets above her. She pours herself and Sansa a drink before setting the pitcher back on the machine. Sansa settles back on a bar stool and Daenerys joins her.

“So, as awful as your hawty flirting was, I can help you with your problem. Well, I already have helped.” Daenerys pushes one mug closer to Sansa. When Sansa takes a sip with a raised brow of curiosity Daenerys continues. “I had my friend pick up the Mercedes, seeing as if your family went out they would see it. It’s at his shop, so once he and I get it done we’ll be happy to hand it back to you.” 

Sansa sets her cup down and puts her hands to cover her face as she takes a deep breath. “Oh Gods, thank you so much. How much do I owe you for the work.”

Daenerys shakes her head. “I haven’t even seen to take in the damage other than first glance but the frame was basically bent and the front of the car was crushed like a paper ball. It would cost more than the car is worth to be honest.”

Sansa sighs and shakes her head. “I can’t sneak that type of money out of the family’s funds without red flags going out.”

Daenerys nods her head in understanding. “Well, it’s a good thing I’m not charging you then.”

Sansa lifts her head with relief and stands up to wrap her arms around Daenerys. “Thank you. Thank you.” Sansa sits back down and her face contorts to confusion. “But, if the damage is that bad, how are you going to pay for it?” 

“That donation I made after buying this house, well, a good chunk of it currently resides within a reserve for Grey’s shop. It’s for in case of emergencies.” Daenerys shrugs her shoulders.

“I honestly don’t know how I can thank you.” 

Daenerys stands and walks away from Sansa. “I would rather work on that mess in my own shop than your family garage. No offense, but your machinery sucks. I should’ve finished that Continental two weeks ago but your garage is severely lacking.”

Sansa nods her head. “So, can I see the car?” 

“Of course, it’s your car.” Daenerys looks Sansa up and down.

Sansa’s clothes are torn and dirty. Spots of blood adorn Sansa’s shirt and a small streak of dried blood still taints Sansa’s left cheek and temple. Daenerys reaches out and brushes Sansa’s hair out of the way to see the bandage over Sansa’s wound. 

“But maybe you should take a shower and get into clean clothes.” Daenerys’ fingers graze over the wound and Sansa flinches before leaning her head into Daenerys’ touch. Daenerys clears her throat and sits up, pulling her hand away quickly. “Yeah, you do that and I’ll tell Grey we’re coming over.”

**Author's Note:**

> and you know the usual, comment and lemme know what you think and you can find me on tumblr @canaries and twitter @sapphicnox


End file.
